Feeling Blue?
by Shadowfang3000
Summary: "Perhaps today was the day he changed? The day he expressed the bare basics of benevolence?" - Twisted Fate launches an ambush on a pair of enemy champions, yet can't bring himself to finish one of them. Left with a heavily wounded girl, what could he do?


(A/N) League of Legends? THE DEUCE!?

This fic actually spawned from a rather weird set of circumstances. Recently my school chums convinced me to start playing LOL, despite the fact that I've always avoided it due to the community consisting primarily of wankers.

Thankfully, I stick with people I know, so all is well :P

Anyway, lying in bed one night, I started thinking of an idea for the character Twisted Fate. His backstory portrays him as a rather evil man, a criminal and a loner at heart. But then I thought about him perhaps finding a small sense of honour in hit bitter black heart. From there, this fic spawned :P

... Yeah, I hope this is fluffy enough xD

WARNING: Some naughty words, an OOC Twisted Fate, a couple of pervy descriptions and some British slang.

**Feeling Blue?**

When it came to stalking prey, some could say he was like a Hawk. Lurking in wait, tracking his hunt, teasing and taunting it until it made a mistake: Then, and only then, would he strike.

On the other hand, he thought that he was more of a Crow than an elegant bird of prey. While true he would lurk and lie in wait, often times he'd only attack the weak and the wavering – The lame and the bleeding.

_That's what he thought at least._

Twisted Fate really only chose to work alongside a Summoner for the money, though a few years back he may have chose it for the chance to make someone bleed. All of this experience on the battlefield had done much to ruin his appetite for battle, and he'd grown to be rather sickened by the things he could do so casually on the field.

He never looked away when he landed the killing blow.

He never shed a tear when an ally fell protecting him.

He didn't tip his hat when his minions charged heedlessly against overwhelming odds.

_Like lambs to the slaughter._

He scratched his nose and shuffled his deck as he sat in the brush, the sounds of battle emanating from all around. To his left was the starting of a stream, where seldom warriors tread without support, while to his right raged a duel between a trio of warriors.

He recognised one of them as Olaf, one of his colleagues in battle. He was quickly being overwhelmed, but he refused to go down without a fight. One of his foes, a man in shining armour, parried a desperate blow and blunted his chainmail, sending the large Berserker into a bloodthirsty frenzy.

More out of frustration and rage than logic, he threw his axe at the armoured knight. Heaving his hefty shield up to block it, Twisted Fate considered whether or not he should intervene.

Olaf himself was quite a nice bloke once you got to know him. A bit excitable and eager to slam a drink or two, but honourable to his comrades nonetheless. To be honest, he actually saved his skin a few weeks back after a failed ambush, and dragged him back to base to heal up.

He should've returned the favour.

_... Nah._

It pained him to do it, but it was the logical choice: If he tried to get involved now, he would easily be repelled and both of them would fall. Olaf had no chance, his fate was already sealed.

Olaf sent a bloody headbutt at the knight's unshielded face, smashing his nose in with its force and sending them both to the ground. The knight's ally burst from the shade and launched an orb of flame at the duo. The Berserker took the brunt of it, his entire back being set alight by the searing heat. However, miraculously he didn't seem fazed by it.

The knight did all he could, but Olaf just kept punching and biting and clawing at his face, his animalistic bellows echoing in the great expanse of the woods.

Soon enough with a bitter groan, the increasing might of the flames sent by the Knight's colleague took their toll. Olaf's body fell limply against the exhausted man, his skin stained a coal black.

The man who was smiles and laughs barely an hour ago had been slain.

_Not that he cared._

Twisted Fate tipped his hat silently, mourning his fallen comrade from his hiding place. Rising to a low crouch, he continued to observe the actions of the two left standing.

The man grunted with effort as his colleague pulled him to a seated position. It was only then that Twisted Fate noticed that his ally was a woman. To be honest he rarely took faces into account when observing a target: It was her curvy and seductive body that gave it away.

"We need to get you back." She bluntly said, glaring at the smouldering corpse of Olaf. "Can you move?"

The man nodded, mouthing a weak "Yeah." as she slowly hauled him up. His armour was badly dented and charred, some of the blasts of flame having reached him through the large berserker that mauled him. "Thanks for the save, Ahri..."

"Come on, don't give up now: We're nearly at the turrets." She smiled, letting him use her shoulder for much needed support. The man shook his head and grinned, and was probably about to say something witty as a comeback before a blade-sharp card hit him square in the forehead.

_Jack of Hearts._

He sunk to the floor like a bag filled with rocks, his arms and legs spreading like a puppet with its strings cut. The girl shrugged him off and prepared for battle in seconds, revolving around and mustering an orb of magic in her right hand. However, her quick reflexes were outmatched as a second card flew at her chest.

_Two of Clubs._

She didn't have time to try and evade it, and took the full force of the blow. Infused with a crafty magic, the card blasted in front of her and threw her to the floor roughly, knocking her unconscious before she even hit the ground. Twisted Fate emerged from the brush casually, a wave of minions eagerly dodging him to spar with their counterparts.

"Better make this quick." He muttered to himself, shuffling through his deck to find a poetic card. It was a strange habit of his, something he found amusing much to his own revulsion.

_Kings for Men._

_Jacks for Boys._

_Jokers for wastes of time._

Looming over the incapacitated girl, he readied his hand to cast her down: The Coup de Grace.

But then he made the mistake of looking at her face.

She was a fair looking lady, blending the face of a young, cute beauty with the body of a tempting vixen. Her eyes shone a piercing, foxy amber, which coupled with her button nose and soft visage gave the image of a truly innocent girl.

Leading downwards from her slender neck were a perfect pair of breasts. While he'd worked with various women that each bore a roulette of different sized mammaries, they were never something that really interested him. As perverse as it was, he couldn't help but be drawn by hers: Not too large, not too small.

_The word "Immaculate" came to mind._

From her long legs to her curvy thighs, and from her soft hands to her pale shoulders, there wasn't a single fault in the young woman.

Save for a scar.

Just around her neck, practically on the jaw, lay a small blemish. It was barely noticeable, yet his keen gaze managed to pick it up. He frowned, his hand having lowered during his deep consideration.

_What lead to that scar?_

_History had._

_This girl's past._

_Her own story._

The sound of his comrades fighting was audible all around, the battle raging on as he stood dumbfounded, twiddling his thumbs. An explosion sounded to his right as his minions succeeded in destroying the closest turret. Without even a pause those few that survived the kamikaze charge kept moving, quickly being torn to pieces by the next line of defence.

For some reason he found himself kneeling at her side, his hands wedging under her for a firm grip. In a simple action he lifted the girl up, like a husband with their bride.

None of his fellow Champions were nearby.

He retreated to the undergrowth of the wilderness that divided the three lanes of the battlefield, the girl the knight called "Ahri" light in his grip.

_She had tails._

_Soft, silky, smooth tails._

_He had to resist the urge to caress them._

X

Eventually he found a small clearing, where the remains of an ancient campfire lay crumbled and dusty. Brushing a booted foot to clear some stubborn rocks, he lay her down to rest. Standing upright to survey the local area, he came to ask himself a question.

_Why was he saving his enemy?_

The usual Twisted Fate had a reason, certainly. After the battle, he'd go back to his favourite tavern - "The Burgundy" – And contact his business partner, a man by the name of "Jacques".

_Jacques the Ransom Broker._

There, he'd arrange a date for her collection, meet him there, claim his payment, and then spend it all on booze and women until he was broke again.

Then he'd hunt for his next victim.

_Wash, rinse, repeat._

_Perhaps today was the day he changed?_

_The day he expressed the bare basics of benevolence?_

Kneeling at Ahri's side, he stood watch as the girl continued her slumber. If one of his allies found him here, all hell would probably break loose. Ranging from their anger at him leaving the battle to their shock at his harbouring of an enemy, he'd have no real excuse to stop them from executing him as a traitor to the cause.

She moaned.

Looking back, her face was filled with a pained grimace. For the stun effect of his cards to work, Twisted Fate made sure to infuse them with a large amount of pain-inducing magic. He'd never felt the effect himself, but he was certain that all hit by his cards felt a furious aching sensation larger than anything made by the cruellest of gods.

Delicately shifting a strand of her hair that had slithered onto her face, he thought of a way to comfort her. With nothing on hand, he did what he did when he needed a peaceful nights rest.

He took off his hat with a growl and placed it precariously on Ahri's head, covering her eyes and shrouding her face in shadow. He felt his messy head of hair sadly, a foreign chill invading his body.

_She owes me one._

The chill of the night was getting sharper, a teasing wind sweeping through the treeline and hitting the two with its full force. Twisted Fate shivered, crossing his arms and doing his best to shelter his neck within the confines of his collar.

_What about the girl, idiot?_

Ahri's bare legs clenched together autonomously as she trembled, the combination of aching pain and bitter cold reigning total hell on her senses. There was only one way the two could stay warm without a fire.

Slipping his coat off, he propped the girl up against a small tree. She mumbled something inaudibly, her gentle breaths a caressing sound to his ears.

_Now for the hard bit._

Taking a seat next to her, he flicked the coat out like a mother putting clothes on the washing line, and draped it over their laps. Reluctantly inching closer to her, he snuggled up close to try and exchange his body warmth with hers.

He sat stiffly an awkwardly, not entirely enamoured with scooting so close to the girl. As strange as it sounded, he wasn't really a fan sitting so close to beautiful womens unless he was completely pissed off his head.

He also didn't like sitting so close to an enemy beauty, in disputed territory with his guard down and additional foes nearby.

Still, he had to admit: It felt quite nice doing something kind for a change. Ahri's head fell limply onto his shoulder, almost as if she was tempting him.

_Suddenly the hunter and hunted swapped roles._

With nothing else to do, he surrendered to her invitation and leant against her gently. Her ebony hair had a splendid softness to it, feeling better than any cushion in the rooms of the Burgundy.

And the scent?

_Intoxicating._

He'd adjusted to the smells of three environments in his lifetime: The smell of ichor and claret on the battlefield, the stench of ale, roast, and sweat in the tavern, and the overpowering, vomit-inducing scent of the cheap perfume that the whores of the Burgundy coated theirselves in as they sought drunken clients.

It was a welcome variation for once.

And he couldn't help but feel drowsy as it seized his senses, caressing his mind gently and lovingly.

Ahri's face was glowing the foreign red of a blush, her innocence hitting him like a Joker in his deck.

_Why did someone like her work as a Champion?_

_What reason did she have?_

She couldn't have enjoyed it; she didn't look like someone who would, something a life reading poker faces told him. Perhaps it was family? The job was known for high pay and high risk. What if she had a family to feed? Young siblings hungry and poor, desperate for what little food they could pay for?

What if she fought these battles for love?

_He respected that._

She was in it for the rewards like him, but while he instantly blew it all on poker, drinks, and bawdy girls, she likely conserved it for her sisters and brothers.

Well, if his instincts were true.

_Like they usually were._

She sniffled uncomfortably, lines of tears appearing irregularly on her cheeks as the pain of the card throbbed on. Since his moves to make her feel better had all been used up, he tried something else for a change. Sliding his hand to her side, he blindly felt around for her palm.

_Nothing... Nothing... Nothing..._

_Soft..._

_That's her thigh._

Embarrassed by touching her luscious curves, he quickly pulled back and found her fingers. Delicately interlocking his digits with her, he clenched her gently.

_She clenched back._

Swiping his thumb across her cheeks to collect the stubborn drops, he noticed the faintest of smiles filling her face.

_She felt good._

Eventually the tears diminished, those that hadn't been swept away drying into nothing.

Content with what he'd done for her, he finally surrendered to the allure of slumber. The pain seemed to have been neutralised by their combined efforts, yet they still held their hands together tightly.

_Unwilling to let go._

And as the cheers of victory erupted from nearby, Twisted Fate couldn't care less.

_Because just an hour of peaceful slumber with this beautiful girl would be a far greater triumph._

X

(A/N): Well... That was disappointing :P

A bit of trivia: This fic was originally going to have Sona rather than Ahri, but I changed by mind before writing :/

Hope you enjoyed! I've left it open for a possible continuation, but I doubt there will be :l


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